


a dream of spring

by inejcrows



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, they just really love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 17:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inejcrows/pseuds/inejcrows
Summary: He kisses her like they’ll never see each other again.He kisses her like he knows he’ll do it for the rest of his life.That night, when they fall asleep, they both dream of spring.





	a dream of spring

**Author's Note:**

> i just really wanted sansa to wash jon’s hair.

The Long Night lasts for days. Dark days, full of death and despair.

Jon fights. Fights for everyone who can’t, for the people he has lost, for the people he loves. For Arya. For Bran. For Sansa. _Always_ for Sansa.

He kills the Night King and everything around him shatters. Corpses fall to the ground like broken dolls. A dragon made of ice plummets from the sky.

There’s silence. A silence so loud Jon feels like covering his ears because the lack of sound is deafening after days of battle.

He knows everyone is looking for him, to congratulate him, to ask him what’s _next_ but if he doesn’t sleep he’ll die so he closes the door of his bedchamber and wakes up only two days after.

Daenerys is one that finds him first and in that moment he hates her.

He hates her she’s not who he wants to see, because she doesn’t know if his family is safe, because she’s talking about going into battle again, because she wants the Iron Throne so damn much when he would rather burn it down forever.

He pretends to listen to her while he scans the courtyard.

Winterfell is destroyed, burned and broken – it makes him want to cry.

Daenerys is still talking about Cersei when he spots her. She _shines_ , in a way only Sansa could just a few days after battle.

Her hair is loose, blowing in the wind, she’s wearing a dark blue dress and she looks every bit the Queen she should be.

She’s helping the smallfolk, the wounded, the crying children.

A saint, he thinks. A _goddess_.

When she looks up and sees him, she takes his breath away with a small smile and a wave of her hand.

She’s hope. She’s light. She keeps him going.

 

* * *

 

 

The soldiers are tired, their armies have lost too many men, they only have one dragon left but they still leave for King’s Landing.

Queen Daenerys commands it and everyone follows her without protesting, not because they trust her but because they fear her. She seems to think it’s all the same if it grants her their support.

Sansa starts shaking the night he and Arya tell her they are going South.

“You can’t”, she keeps repeating and the fear in her eyes makes her look so young his heart breaks.

Arya hugs her while she cries for what feels like hours.

She’s still panicking when she takes a deep breath and says, “very well, I’m coming with you then”.

Both Jon and Arya don’t dare contest her decision after they see the determination in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

The day before the battle, after a month spent riding to the Capital, she finds him and asks him for Cersei’s head.

“You’ll live, Jon. You’ll live and I’ll be by your side when you behead Cersei for her crimes against our family”, and he’ll do anything for her so he nods and kisses her forehead.

 

The battle is gruesome, Daenerys burns everything to the ground and Jon feels like crying. He sees innocents put there by Cersei being burned alive and he realizes King’s Landing is hosting _two_ mad Queens, instead of one.

The only Queen he cares for is waiting for him, so he doesn’t die.

In the end, Cersei and Daenerys both die and Drogon destroys the Iron Throne.

The second the war ends, Jon stops feeling.

He has fought battles his entire life and when the last one is won, he can’t feel happiness or sadness, he just feels loss.

Loss for the people that died, loss for the ones who will never be able to see the new world they are about to build, loss for the bastard boy of Winterfell that died and came back to life just to discover he was never a bastard from Winterfell in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Like always, there’s only one person he wants to see and when he spots her, still trying her best to help those in need, he takes her hand without saying anything and brings her to his tent.

She makes him sit on his cot and she asks him something while standing between his knees and searching his face for injuries but he doesn’t hear it.

The only sound he can remember are the screams of children and the cries of mothers, the only things he sees is death, the only thing he feels is numbness.

Sansa, _Gods bless her_ , takes his face in her hands and tells him to focus on her.

It’s not difficult once he has her permission, her dress is dirty with blood, her hair is in a braid, her eyes are the deepest shade of blue he has ever seen.

She looks ethereal and he can’t stop himself from crying when he sees the worry in her face.

She lets him weep, holds his head against her stomach – still standing tall while he’s sitting down – and passes a hand through his curls.

Once he stops shaking she kneels down in front of him.

“You need a bath, Jon. You need to rid yourself of this armor and all this blood, I’m gonna ask for some hot water and a steward, is that alright?”, the thought of her leaving terrifies him so he shakes his head.

“Please..”, he begs, “no one. No one but you”.

He knows it’s improper and he’s afraid she’ll deny his request but she doesn’t seem to mind. She kisses his cheek and stands up to go ask for what she needs.

 

* * *

 

 

A guard comes some time later with a cloth and water.

Jon stands up on shaky legs and lets her undress him.

He doesn’t talk, just puts is hands on her waist and lets her take care of him.

She removes his shirt and starts wiping the wet cloth on his skin, she’s gentle on his scars – both old and new – and he falls so much in love with her in that moment it physically hurts him.

She leads him to the tub and he undresses.

He supposes in any different situation they’d feel shame but they both clearly need this, the closeness, the touch, the _love_.

Once he’s in the tub, he feels his muscles relax and he sighs when he feels her hands combing through his hair.

“I’m so glad you came back to me”, she whispers and she’s so close to him he can feel her breath on his neck.

He shivers at her words and he wants to tell her he’s fighting to come back to her since the day they got reunited.

“Sansa”, he breathes her name instead. It sounds like a plea, like a prayer.

“I don’t know who I am anymore”, he finally confesses. “Who am I when I’m not on the battlefield?”

Her hands massage his scalp and he can feel the soap washing off all the dirt and blood.

Her touch is tender and he feels guilty for letting someone so kind and pure take care of someone so broken, so damaged.

“You’re Jon, still Jon”, it feels like a punch in the stomach.

“Jon _Targaryen_ ”, he spits out his last name as if it was a curse. he thinks of Daenerys, Rhaegar, Aerys. Maybe it is.

“ _No_ ”, her arms go around his neck, her chin rests on his shoulder, “you’re a Stark, Jon. You’re Jon Snow. You’re _my_ Jon”, she whispers the last words but her tone is firm and his heart feels like it’s going to explode out of his chest.

“Yours”, he repeats, emotion making his voice break.

 

Once she has finished, she helps him out of the tub and he gets dressed for bed.

“Stay”, he begs.

His hands are on her shoulders, they are so close, so incredibly close but he still feels like he should be careful around her because she’s the most precious thing he has ever held in his arms.

“Help me with my laces”, it’s her response.

She turns her back to him and when her dress falls to the ground he shudders a little.

She looks so extremely lovely when she lets her hair loose. He just wants to touch her again, forever if she’d let him.

“You’re so beautiful”, he murmurs. It feels like the truest thing he has said in a long time.

 “I have scars”, her voice is low, soft and scared.

“So do I. You’re still beautiful”, he can’t hold back anymore so he drops a kiss to her bare shoulder.

She turns around, blushing a little.

He leads her to bed, like he has always dreamed of doing.

They lie down face to face. The silence between them is comforting, she’s tracing the scar above his eyes with her finger and he allows himself to close his eyes.

“You are the reason I still live”

  
“Good”, she says, “I don’t think I could live without you”.

He kisses her for the first time that night.

It’s soft and delicate because that’s what she deserves and when they pull away from each other to breathe he drops kisses on her cheeks, on her nose, between her brows.

He kisses her like they’ll never see each other again.

He kisses her like he knows he’ll do it for the rest of his life.

That night, when they fall asleep, they both dream of spring.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @keysansa!


End file.
